


we're making two reflections into one

by very_important_army



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Body Swap, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Kinda, M/M, Mirror Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Zhangjun, it's just Magic, there's no backstory/explanation for the swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 07:19:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17402492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/very_important_army/pseuds/very_important_army
Summary: Zhangjing wakes up in a bed that’s not his own, under covers that’s not his own.In a body that’s not his own.How did he get himself into this situation?Where Zhangjing and Yanjun find themselves in each other's bodies, and decide their best plan of action is to fuck.





	we're making two reflections into one

Zhangjing wakes up in a bed that’s not his own, under covers that’s not his own. 

 

In a body that’s not his own. 

 

_ How do people deal with legs this long? _ Zhangjing asks himself as he tries to get out of bed, but instead finding his feet tangled up under the covers. 

 

No wonder Wenjun is so uncoordinated. 

 

He looks down at his hands — tanned, slim fingers move at his will. 

 

They’re not his hands, but they’re familiar hands. 

 

He’s held these hands countless times. These hands caress his face and his back regularly. These hands have even saved from falling over more times than he cares to admit. 

 

Hell, these fingers have been inside Zhangjing — stretching and scissoring and fingering him open. 

 

Well, fuck. 

 

How did he get himself into this situation?

 

\--

 

“Lin Yanjun,” Zhangjing hisses at his boyfriend. At himself? At the Zhangjing-shaped lump lying in his bed like a log.

 

Was that really how he looked when he slept? God. He  _ knew  _ Yanjun was lying when he told him that Zhangjing looked like an angel. 

 

Finally, Yanjun stirs. “Zhangjing?” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep. “What’s going on?”

 

Yanjun sits up groggily, Zhangjing’s curly hair a mess atop his head. And jumps up, startled.

 

“What the fuck?” he splutters when he sees Zhangjing — well, himself — peering at him. “Zhangjing?”

 

“I have no idea how this happened,” Zhangjing whines. 

 

Yanjun flops back down onto the bed. “I’m too tired to deal with this shit.” 

 

Zhangjing jumps up. “No, Yanjun, we gotta figure how to change back! I don’t wanna be trapped in your skinny body forever!!” He tugs fruitlessly at Yanjun’s arm, cursing the lack of strength in his arms. “Damnit Lin Yanjun, why are you weak?”

 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Yanjun huffs, offended. “I’m super strong.” 

 

“Lin Yanjun, you have twigs for arms. Now get your lazy butt out of bed!”

 

“It’s your butt,” Yanjun retorts childishly, turning to face the wall. 

 

Zhangjing sighs. Clearly he can’t get anywhere with these feeble arms, so he gives up. “I’m gonna find Xukun and tell him what’s going on. It’s a really good thing we don’t have a schedule today.” 

 

“Mmhmm,” Yanjun groans noncommitantly. 

 

“But that doesn’t mean you don’t have to get out of bed!” Zhangjing glares fiercely at Yanjun. Yanjun winces. That same expression on Zhangjing’s face would’ve been utterly adorable, but on Yanjun’s chiseled features, he actually looks quite terrifying. “You promised you were going to take me out on a date, so go get dressed!”

 

“Getting up now,” Yanjun pouts meekly. 

 

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Zhangjing says. “You better be dressed by the time I get back!”

 

He disappears out the door, and Yanjun heaves himself up with a loud groan, blinking sleep out of his eyes. 

 

He pads to the bathroom and starts to brush his teeth. Wide doe eyes blink back at him, and Yanjun smiles at his reflection, puffing out his cheeks. 

 

Yanjun hates acting cute. 

 

So why is he pouting and fluttering his eyes at the mirror?

 

You Zhangjing really is adorable, Yanjun muses, concluding that it’s fine to be acting cute when you have  _ such a cute face anyway.  _

 

“Lin Yanjun,” comes Yanjun’s impatient voice through the door, “stop staring at yourself in the mirror and hurry up. I’ll wait for you outside. You’d think that when he doesn’t even have his own face, he’d stop staring in the mirror so much,” the last part is muttered, but Yanjun hears it clearly anyway.

 

“How did you even know?” Yanjun splutters. 

 

“I’ve been waiting here for five minutes, and the water stopped running ages ago. What else could you be doing?”

 

Yanjun blows a raspberry at him. “Well, I think I’m entitled to stare in the mirror as long as I want, my face is so cute today!” 

 

“Shut up, I’m not cute, I’m handsome!” 

 

“Yes, you are very handsome  _ today. _ ”

 

“Lin Yanjun!” comes the rebuke. Yanjun can tell from his voice that his boyfriend is pouting, and he blows one last kiss and wink at the mirror before walking out of the bathroom. Zhangjing is standing outside, already dressed.

 

“Finally,” Zhangjing sighs in relief, “You’re still taking me on that date that you promised, so chop chop Lin Yanjun!” 

 

He disappears out the door, and Yanjun walks towards the full-length mirror with a sigh of resignation. 

 

Yanjun carefully strips the pajamas off Zhangjing’s body, running his hands over the soft flesh. It’s such a sharp contrast from Yanjun’s own boney, slim body, but Yanjun loves the cuddly soft flesh — he doesn’t know why Zhangjing is so insecure. Or rather, he doesn’t  _ believe  _ Zhangjing should be so insecure. 

 

In fact, looking at Zhangjing’s naked body in the mirror is starting to make him horny. 

 

Yanjun reaches into his boxers and carefully wraps a small hand around his cock, tugging at it gently as it hardens in his hand. He groans, but his voice comes out high and breathy, like more a whimper. He spits in his hand, speeding up the glide along his cock, and Zhangjing’s image in the mirror is starting to get flushed and glassy-eyed. 

 

Yanjun wants to see more. 

 

Sitting on the bed so that he still faces the mirror, Yanjun spreads his legs easily. It takes him by surprise, since he’s not usually so flexible, but he quickly gets over it when Zhangjing’s tight little hole is revealed. Yanjun moans, and the reflection in the mirror parts his lips with desire. 

 

Yanjun quickly sticks one, then two fingers into his entrance, panting as the action stretches him with the most pleasurable pain. He begins to pump in and out, never once taking his eyes off the glass. 

 

Although he knows the image in the mirror is technically himself, the image of Zhangjing wrecked with pleasure, staring back at him with lust and desire in his eyes and his own fingers in his ass, makes a rush of arousal course through his bloodstream. 

 

Yanjun twists his fingers, trying to reach that one angle that he knows Zhangjing loves. He grunts in frustration, only just barely being able to graze at his prostate, and can’t apply the proper pressure. He writhes on the bed, angling his hips in desperation. 

 

And then the door opens. 

 

“Lin Yanjun, are you done—oh.” Zhangjing stares at him in shock. He bites his lips, eyes widening with arousal. 

“Zhangjing,” Yanjun whimpers out, panting with desire. “Help me.”

 

\--

 

Yanjun moans Zhangjing’s name brokenly, and the sound goes straight to his cock. 

 

“I need your fingers, Zhangjing,” Yanjun pants. His skin is flushed, the red creeping up Zhangjing’s pale skin more visibly than it would on Yanjun’s. His brown hair is awry both from sleeping and Yanjun’s twisting around, and his soft brown eyes are dilated with arousal. 

 

Zhangjing nods numbly. “Suck,” he orders Yanjun, tapping his lips with his index finger. Yanjun parts his lips obediently, coating Zhangjing’s index and middle fingers with his saliva. Yanjun traces his tongue along Zhangjing’s fingers, sucking greedily, and Zhangjing can’t help but let out a low moan. By the time Zhangjing pulls his hand out of Yanjun’s mouth, his fingers glisten in the dim light, and a string of saliva trails from Yanjun’s lips. 

 

“Turn around,” Zhangjing rasps. Obediently, Yanjun scrambles onto his knees, legs spread and ass in the air. 

 

“Look at you, so needy,” Zhangjing coos, tracing Yanjun’s rim with his slickened index finger. Yanjun shudders, a full body reaction. 

 

Zhangjing slips his fingers in, aiming directly for that one spot that he knows perfectly well. He presses down with the appropriate pressure that he knows is preferred, and Yanjun’s legs trembles harshly as he clenches down hard onto Zhangjing’s fingers. 

 

“Look in the mirror,” Yanjun gasps out, voice breathy and aroused. “Look at yourself getting finger-fucked by me.” 

 

Zhangjing looks up to see his flushed face and teary eyes. He is the picture of desire, messy and shaking and absolutely wrecked. Zhangjing speeds up his fingers, and the Zhangjing in the mirror squeezes his eyes shut, a loud moan slipping through his parted lips. The Yanjun in the mirror bites his lower lip hard, bangs swept handsomely across his face.

 

The feeling is bizarre, as if watching himself on camera — which should be a familiar feeling, except Zhangjing has never seen himself look so needy, so aroused. His cock hardens fully as the Zhangjing in the mirror nudges his ass backwards, in search of more stimulation, and the desire for Yanjun’s cock in his ass suddenly coils in his belly. 

 

“Zhangjing, I need your cock,” Yanjun groans, before smirking cheekily. “Or rather, you need my cock.”

 

“Come here,” Zhangjing reaches forward after stripping the rest of his clothes off his body, cupping Yanjun’s face. Yanjun pulls him down on the bed so that they’re facing each other, and leans in to kiss Zhangjing.  

 

He supposes it should feel weird, kissing himself, but Yanjun’s ability to make him melt has transferred over to Zhangjing’s body, so if he closes his eyes and tries to ignore the new height difference, it’s still  _ Yanjun _ . 

 

Zhangjing kisses back enthusiastically. 

 

Zhangjing reaches for the lube in the bedside table, uncapping it to drizzle the gel over his fingers before probing at Yanjun’s ass. Yanjun squeals, jolting from the cold and nearly biting Zhangjing’s lip, before settling one leg over Zhangjing’s waist for easier access. 

 

Zhangjing nudges the blunt head of his cock against Yanjun’s rim, but before he can push in, Yanjun shifts in his arms. 

 

“Wait,” Yanjun says, moving the mirror to the foot of the bed before bending forward with his legs spread so that his puckered opening is revealed. Zhangjing stares, entranced, at the pulsating muscle. “I want to see.”

 

When Zhangjing sinks his cock into Yanjun, slowly but steadily, Yanjun’s face twists into a pleasured expression. He starts moving back desperately against Zhangjing’s hips, craving the fullness. 

 

Zhangjing closes his eyes. Yanjun is tight and warm around his cock, and every thrust of his hips causes the friction to drag along his sensitive skin of his erection. All he can hear is the slapping of skin against skin and Yanjun’s rhythmic sobs of pleasure, high and breathless, as he begs for Zhangjing’s cock. 

 

It’s exhilarating, really — usually Yanjun is the one in control, and Zhangjing is reduced to a pile of mush under Yanjun’s talented hands. And today, Zhangjing sets the pace while Yanjun crumbles and writhes beneath him, the most beautiful melody. 

 

Zhangjing’s eyes flutter open. He nudges at Yanjun’s legs, who groans and spread his legs, sticking his ass even higher into the air. Yanjun is gripping onto the wooden frame at the foot of the bed, knuckles white, Zhangjing’s name spilling out mindlessly from his lips like a mantra. Yanjun’s eyes are shut tightly, bliss in every line of his face, as he contracts around Zhangjing’s cock with a vice-like grip. 

 

Zhangjing’s eyes land on the mirror, where he can see his own face even more clearly. Yanjun’s pleasure is reflected back at him on his own features, but more than that, Zhangjing’s eyes are drawn to the dark desire in Yanjun’s eyes. Zhangjing watches, fascinated, as the image of Yanjun fucks roughly into the image of himself, causing the Zhangjing in the mirror to squirm and gasp in euphoria. 

 

“Zhangjing,” Yanjun gasps, “I’m going to cum.” 

 

Zhangjing grips more tightly onto Yanjun’s waist, speeding up his movements to try to push Yanjun to the edge. In the mirror, Zhangjing seems to sag into Yanjun’s arms, bliss wracking his entire body as he trembles with his orgasm, spilling all over the bedsheets. Zhangjing tips his head back as Yanjun reaches orgasm, tightening around his cock even more than he thought possible. 

 

The image of them in the mirror is painted on the back of Zhangjing’s eyelids, and he cums to the vision of himself in utter bliss, fucked to orgasm with Yanjun’s beautiful, lean body wrapped around him. Yanjun’s tightness continues to contract around his cock, milking Zhangjing through his orgasm. When Zhangjing’s vision returns, Yanjun is looking back at him coyly. 

 

“Let’s take a nap,” Yanjun murmurs into Zhangjing’s ear, pulling away and collapsing on top of Zhangjing’s chest, ignoring the sticky mess of his lower body. 

 

“What about our date?” Zhangjing wonders, pouting at the thought of giving up the steak he was so desperately looking forward to. 

 

Yanjun grins at him, and Zhangjing swears he’s never seen himself look so smug. “Wasn’t this so much more fun?”

 

Zhangjing groans unhappily, but his eyes can’t help but flutter closed. He feels Yanjun snuggle up into his chest, and he drifts off into dreamland, Yanjun’s light breaths lulling him to sleep. 

 

\--

  
  


Zhangjing wakes up, and the first thing he sees are slender, tan hands. 

 

Fuck. 

 

He tries to wriggle his fingers.

 

The tan fingers don’t move.

 

“Oh, thank god,” Zhangjing says, sitting up rapidly. 

 

“Ugh,” Yanjun groans, waking up as Zhangjing accidentally elbows him in the stomach. “What the fuck, Zhangjing?”

 

Zhangjing beams at him. “We’re back!”

 

“Oh.” Yanjun blinks. “I guess we are.”

 

And in the blink of an eye, Zhangjing is pushed face down against the bed, ass in the air, in a reflection of what happened just an hour prior. “Good. That was fun, but I belong on top.” Zhangjing can hear the smirk in his voice.

 

A finger slips into Zhangjing’s still-stretched opening, and Zhangjing groans, the sound reverberating against the pillow. 

 

“Ready for round 2?”

 

God, his boyfriend is insatiable.  

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter [here! ](https://twitter.com/viarmy0111)


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